


Serendipitous

by Hayato (TheLennyBunny)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Gender/Sexuality, Complete, EWE, F/M, LGBTQ Themes, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 06:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLennyBunny/pseuds/Hayato
Summary: Fraying edges, tired shoulders, it all comes out and she stops hiding.She doesn't stop worrying, dumbass she is.





	Serendipitous

Karkat glances at you and doesn't so much as twitch, just going back to reading his romance novel. 

"Alright," He says. You wait for something more, but his attention isn’t even on you anymore, engrossed in the tales of- you glance- Treveh and Kir’oe.

You don’t press it. You’re too shaken from bringing it up in the first place.

* * *

It’s something that’s been festering in the back of your mind for years, probably. Bro

wasn’t the sort of guy to throw you out on your ass if you showed any “signs”- the dude made  _ gay puppet porn _ . He couldn't say shit about anyone’s life. But you couldn’t say if he would accept you or call you anything different, and maybe that’s why you’d not so much as contemplated it for those years before the game.

You’d known something was off, could almost put your finger on it, but there was the prey’s instinctual response of  _ do not. _

So you didn’t. Not until he was dead and you had three years to do nothing but think.

* * *

“You told him? How did he react?”

You shrug and keep stirring the weird health concoction Rose bought you, wondering if it tastes as chalky as it looks. Rose sighs and crosses her legs because she still hasn’t gotten rid of that dramatic streak of hers.

“Bad? Good? I need an answer before I can give you advice, Dee.”

“Maybe I don’t want advice,” You finally reply, “Maybe I just want to jam with my sister and laugh at her trying to drag trolls into therapy and talk about Roxy’s new bombass rifle.”

She pauses. Her face looks like she just stepped on a dog’s tail and didn’t realise for two blocks. You know that face intimately thanks to John and Jade.

“...I’m sorry Dee.” She stirs her coffee for a moment. “If you laugh I’m throwing a napkin at you. It may be a culture shock, but considering they’ve all been living at the very edge of paranoia their whole lives some help-”

You let her go on and sip at the chalky-not-chalky abomination. It’s easy, familiar, and you can forget the knots of stress in your chest for now.

* * *

Three years to think is a long time, especially when in the throes of puberty, voices lowering and bodies changing and hormones playing the game of “let’s see how far your body can take you to the edge”. You spend most of the time uncomfortable without knowing why, avoiding reflective surfaces and hyper-focusing on any blemishes or bruises, bags under your eyes and messy hair and smudges on your shades. Small things that may explain your dissatisfaction. Things to distract you.

Eventually you look at yourself in the water before a haircut and idly think  _ huh, it looks better longer _ . And it’s not the thing to incite the big epiphany, but it helps you along the way. That’s most of what pushed you, small things that stuck out like thinking you’d look better if you had smaller shoulders or that it was a relief your voice didn’t drop as low as Bro’s had. Small things, all coming to an unpleasant head by the time you’re fifteen.

* * *

He continues to not say anything and barely react. Complains a little about having to throw out so many clothes, but it’s not your fault fashion industries seem to think humans need to show off their tits and dicks as much as possible. Your new pants are sort of necessary unless you want to be _ completely obvious. _

And you may not give a shit about people outside of the teams, but you do, in fact, care about how you look. So new pants it was.

You push it, sometimes. Bring it up and mention treatments, surgeries, pronouns and names- but he just. Doesn’t do more than nod. Doesn’t fight, argue, say something like “But you’re  _ you,  _ you can’t change,” he doesn’t even say he  _ supports you _ , like it's not something you may need to hear . You don't know if he realises that it's something you do.

You don’t know what he thinks about it all. 

You’ve been sleeping in the living room for the past few weeks, much as he bitches when he wakes up.

* * *

After the game is finished, everything said and done and you’re magically-fucking-inexplicably settled in the homes the game whipped up for you- since it didn’t have anything but the code for  _ your own universes _ to run off of at that point- you sit your ass down and think.

Not about what you may be, what you are- you’d figured that out, stealing some of Rose’s dresses because she was too shit-faced to notice. But what to  _ do. _

You’d built yourself up on the image of a macho, ironic douche, and while you’d torn some of that down ever since you started fighting for yours and everyone else’s lives, some of it still remains. To tear it completely down and remake yourself- that’s terrifying. You’ve faced off abominations, imps and ogres and faced down the Tumour, and you’re a god, a Knight-

But you’re still human when it comes down to it. And you fear rejection from the only people you have left. So you decide, quietly and over a glass of apple juice in the abomination that is yours and Dirk’s apartments combined, before you've moved in with Karkat. You won’t say anything, won’t do anything except maybe shorten your name in your mind, look at yourself and think  _ that’s a fine ass lady. _

And it works for a while, as much as Rose wants to say it didn’t. You keep quiet and work on your photography and consider college for a little bit, and you all settle into a life that’s half what you know and half foreign. And it’s. Not great. But okay.

But then Kanaya starts talking about some of the commissions she’s had for binders and specifically-fitting garments, humans more willing to approach trolls that won't understand, and the trolls get curious as to what the hell they’re for, and Rose decides to  _ explain _ . And when she explains, you can’t stay in the room. At all. When the trolls ask if you all know anyone like that, you completely switch topics and ignore the questions.

Rose starts glaring at you and Dirk and Roxy take to frowning, cocking their heads and making pointed questions that seem to only be asking  _ are you the Texan stereotype? Did Bro fuck up in more ways than one?  _ You don’t know what to tell them, because he certainly  _ did _ but not in the way they’re thinking. So you don’t say anything.

Rose finally confronts you when you leave after Dad Crocker mentions the civil rights movement which you just can't take, not when its supposedly better but you're still festering, still  _ stuck like this _ -

"What's the issue, Dave? Are you only comfortable with homosexuality? Is being transgender just something to put in your raps and use as a goddamn joke-"

"Dee."

"What?"

You don't look at her, don’t so much as hunch your shoulders or grimace or anything that can give you away. Knowing her, she can tell even through the black of your shades.

"It's-" Your voice cracks. "It's just Dee. Not Dave."

You see the moment she comprehends, and the moment she hates herself for the attack. You don't break the silence.

* * *

Kanaya offers to make you a wardrobe one day, catching you glancing at the magazines she has out of different cuts and designers. You refuse for a hot tick because  _ that’s a lot of material holy shit Maryam  _ but she politely pushes the point.

As in, she starts calmly measuring you even as you sputter out protests. The troll raises one brow when you step back and pull out your sword. She waits.

You put your sword back. 

She says she’ll have everything done by next month since there’s a lull in orders right now. You’re sort of nervous but excited if that makes sense? It reminds you of first flirting with Karkat, watching his reactions, first meeting John and Jade, stepping foot past The Door.

You can only hope this doesn’t go horrible.

* * *

You come out to the group at large two days after you tell Karkat, feeling sick, wanting to just  _ get it over with _ . The humans react accordingly, you suppose, equal parts shocked and questioning. The trolls…

Don't really react. Same as Karkat. Terezi asks why they have to call you different pronouns- though she doesn't question the name- and Rose takes over, explaining it's respectful and helps you and _ it's just dickish to do otherwise _ . Terezi nods thoughtfully and grins and says, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dee!"

And they don’t address it any besides that. Kanaya is still unbearably polite when she isn’t being snarky, Captor and Makara are still assholes, Serket’s crazy and Megido is off exploring the ruins she never got to before the game. Nothing else changes besides them mostly saying she or her when they talk about you, and most of them calling you Dee. You… don’t quite know whether to be thankful for that or not. It feels strange for there to be an underreaction.

Rose says that’s just how they are, and you pretend you understand what that means.

* * *

“So you just… automatically know?”

“Nah, man, it’s not that simple.” You watch Crockerbert flip burgers, the smell of beef and rising dough mixing to make a weird odor. The patio out behind the house is filled with you all, Dirk messing with a telescope while Jane helps with dessert and Roxy chases down Mutini the fifth.

John sits next to you, shitty beer in hand. His taste’s bad as usual, budweiser being snagged by only him, Jane’s dad and Jake. He takes a drag from it as he thinks.

“So… what is it like then? I wanna understand, and you know how it is when Rose or Jade try to explain stuff.”

You waved one hand nebulously, feeling the wind push against it.

“It’s… It’s not something you instantly know or completely get for a long while. Like-” You sit up. “Like your powers, right? They’ve always been there, you just didn’t have any idea for years, and didn’t know how to use them until the game kicked us in the ass and robbed our pockets for loose change.”

“Huh.” John finishes his beer and tosses it up, snorting when Jade jumps up and grabs it. “I can’t say I really get it, but I don’t think I need to? As long as you’re happy.”

Are you? You want to say yes. It’s hard to.

* * *

“...Was there any hints your bro-?”

“Nah. But he also spent most his life stuck in the media’s eye, and all I know about him comes from his movies and documentaries and Roxy’s mom. So I can’t say.” Dirk polishes the chassis of his newest robot, some amalgamation of the ones left behind in Zahhak’s first lab. It’s meant to patrol the small island the more reclusive members of your group have claimed, keeping away any intruders. “Do you think there would be?”

You can’t say. You honestly don’t want to think about it, since the answer may be  _ No _ . So you shrug and lean back, hair brushing your collarbone. He asks you to pass him a wrench, and you do. The afternoon continues so.

You come home to a giant box in the living room, and Karkat says you need to talk tomorrow before he leaves for third shift. 

You spend the night trying to resist taking the scissors to your hair and working yourself to exhaustion. 

* * *

The dress is  _ torn. _ It’s covered in small records, varying between scratched and not, black and red and grey and you  _ tore it _ , all that work Kanaya put in just because you can’t fucking calm yourself and tried to rush even though you  _ knew  _ you’re stressed-

"Dee." You jump, try to hide the wetness to your face and cover yourself with a blanket. It doesn't work, and Karkat catches sight of you in your dress, Kanaya's careful stitching ripped. He looks tired as usual, work laptop under his arm, and he sets it down as he sits in front of you. "Talk to me. Please."

"You used my name," Is all you can say at first, and he stares at you like you're a madwoman.

"Why the hell wouldn't I?"

Wh-

_ Why? _

"You haven't said a word about  _ any  _ of this Vantas! For all I knew you thought I was a freak that needed to get my shit together, put this under lock and key and throw away them both into the void, probably get Jade to help shrink it all to nothing and tell me I was making a big deal out of some stupid human thing-"

" _ Dee _ , calm down." He groans and scrubs a hand between his horns. "I know you always left before the others really got into it, so you probably have no clue about Troll concepts on gender, do you?"

Frankly considering the junk in their trunk, you'd thought they went by who developed tits and called it a day, but that's obviously wrong if he was asking, so you shake your head. Karkat shakes his head.

“We don’t have any.”

You stare at him. Your brain short-circuits a little.

"...You use she and he. And I've heard you call Sollux a bastard every day since we met."

"And you gibber out shit like 'et cetera' and 'i.e' as though it means something," Karkat shoots back, giving you an unimpressed look. He sighs and shakes his head, spreading his hands. "As troll society developed, things like defining soldiers by who had rumble spheres and who didn't became pointless, especially since it never decided who could procreate after a certain point. We were too focused on conquest to give a fuck, so the concepts were phased out. The words weren't."

They-

_ He- _

You’ve been mistaking plain acceptance and moving on as rejection this whole time.

You are a paranoid idiot and almost ruined your relationship and may spend the next few minutes hysterically laughing and trying not to scream. Karkat rubs your back and waits for it to peter out, as he always does during these. When you finally stop, you fully consider what he said.

It's. Strange to you, used to a world embroiled in gender. Alien. But all of Karkat is alien, so it's not too foreign. Maybe. 

...Plus it explains the incline to Captor's chest and timber to Serket's voice. You'd always just assumed they were well, somehow like you, not that they weren't  _ anything _ .

"...So y ou don't care?"

“ _ No _ , you grub-minded fuck. I couldn't give less of a damn, even if I don't understand some of it. You're still the human I fell in love with and that made me want to rip my hair out for a sweep."

You smile at that and wipe at your eyes, sniffling. He draws close and rests his head on your chest, listening to the heartbeat so different from his.

He isn't wrong, and that's the important thing. Despite everything, it's still you.

**Author's Note:**

> HAVE I MENTIONED IM A HOMESTUCK


End file.
